


you're something else

by vintagecitrus (finelyagedlemons)



Category: Hyakujuuou GoLion | Beast King GoLion
Genre: ...kind of. it's sort of light. diet voyeurism, Counter Sex, Latex, M/M, Voyeurism, isamu is correct, isamu thinks akira looks REALLY good in that flight suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 20:29:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10704534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finelyagedlemons/pseuds/vintagecitrus
Summary: There was just something about the way Akira’s flight suit (why was he still wearing that thing?) clung to his body, hugged every curve of his muscular legs and fit snugly over his ass, that was starting to go to Isamu’s head. Crossing his legs nonchalantly, Isamu leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and let out a contented sigh. A sight like that was worth memorizing, especially since he wasn’t likely to get another long, uninterrupted look at it for quite a while.





	you're something else

**Author's Note:**

> reuploaded from my deleted old acc!
> 
> a self indulgent mess

Akira narrowed his eyes and scrubbed harder at a spot on the counter. Despite training in the lions being over for the day – at least until something inevitably disturbed their peace – he seemed determined to find some way to keep himself busy.

Isamu wasn’t complaining, though. He certainly enjoyed the view he got every time Akira bent down to grab something or leaned oh-so-subtly over the counter towards a spot just out of his reach.

There was just something about the way Akira’s flight suit (why was he still wearing that thing?) clung to his body, hugged every curve of his muscular legs and fit snugly over his ass, that was starting to go to Isamu’s head. Crossing his legs nonchalantly, Isamu leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and let out a contented sigh. A sight like that was worth memorizing, especially since he wasn’t likely to get another long, uninterrupted look at it for quite a while.

Akira hardly seemed to notice the brunet eyeing him up hungrily. This was fine by Isamu, too – it gave him a perfect opportunity to take in all of the beauty before him. Crimson boots covered his calves, but Isamu could take a guess at what the powerful muscles beneath them looked like. Those boots...he’d never noticed before, but the heels on them raised Akira up around four inches in height. More importantly, though, they accented his legs in a way that just felt obscene.

Speaking of obscene, God, had Akira’s thighs always been so thick? They looked strong enough to crush him. Isamu kind of _wanted_ them to crush him. He swallowed hard as saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of those thighs pressed to either side of his head and Akira’s hands yanking his hair, urging him to –

 _Whoa_ , Isamu thought, shaking his head and blinking a few times. He squeezed his crossed legs together, cursing himself as he fought against a stirring erection.

Akira glanced over at the way Isamu snorted, giving him a look that was difficult to read before returning to his work.

Something seemed off, though. Akira’s movements suddenly looked almost hesitant, and when he clumsily dropped the rag he was holding, he made incredibly slow work of picking it up. Isamu hissed through his teeth, entirely involuntarily, at the unexpected sight of white latex being pulled taut over the should-be-illegal curve of Akira Kogane’s ass.

He thought for a moment he saw Akira shoot another glance in his direction, but he couldn’t be sure. The blood that normally went to his brain had better places to be.

Isamu shifted in his seat, biting back a groan at the sight of Akira’s back muscles shifting visibly under the snug red and white suit (God, why did it have to fit him so snugly?) as he returned to a standing position.

Akira was definitely looking back at him now, and Isamu did all he could not to yelp at the look in his eyes. It was almost...inviting.

Akira bit his lip and oh God he definitely knew what had been going on here. He beckoned Isamu with a finger, and Isamu’s body responded immediately. The Red Lion’s pilot shot up out of his chair and moved toward Akira, breath coming in heavy now. His eyes were locked with his captain’s.

Tentatively, Isamu’s hands came to rest on Akira’s hips. Akira broke eye contact, turning his head forward again, and Isamu relished in the way Akira’s body pressed back against him. The Black Lion’s pilot bent over onto the counter again, resting on his elbows and sighing softly as Isamu rolled his hips forward.

Isamu could feel his cock starting to strain against the front of his pants as he leaned down to growl a whisper into Akira’s ear. “Wanted to try something a little new, huh?”

Akira laughed breathlessly. “I had a feeling the suit might tempt you. Think of it as – _ah_ – as an experiment.”

“God, you’re something else,” Isamu murmured, catching Akira’s earlobe between his teeth. He was rewarded with a whine from his captain. “Y’know, if you wanted to try out something rougher, you could’ve just asked.”

Akira simply hummed smugly in reply, rocking back in time with Isamu’s steady grinding. Isamu’s fingers were starting to dig into the flesh of Akira’s thighs. He savored the feel of latex in his hands and licked his lips, noting the way it accented every curve and dip of Akira’s body. It was even more obvious up close.

Relaxing his grip, Isamu let his hands wander forward a little, skimming over a telling bulge. He grinned and rubbed at Akira’s cock lightly, and his eyes fluttered shut at the groan his captain gave. Akira’s hips stuttered in their movements, seeking friction. It was painfully clear how much Akira was struggling to keep it together, and frankly, Isamu wasn’t doing much better.

The Red Lion’s pilot bit back a moan and kept grinding his hips against Akira’s ass, gripping him tightly with one hand and continuing his work on Akira’s cock with the other. It was difficult to tell exactly where he was touching through the thick latex, but whatever he was doing was having one hell of an effect on his captain.

Akira was grinding back on Isamu about as hard as he could, demanding more with movements and wordless cries. His hair fell over his shoulders, strands bouncing as he moved. His hands scrambled to find purchase on the counter’s smooth surface.

Somehow, it wasn’t enough.

Frustrated, Isamu yanked down the zipper on the back of Akira’s flight suit, revealing the tight muscles of Akira’s back. He kissed a spot between his captain’s shoulder blades and pushed against Akira’s ass with newfound force. It didn’t quite replace the delicate fingers rubbing at Akira’s cock, but the gentle splay of Isamu’s hands across the bare skin of his back came close.

Isamu ran his hands over every inch of skin he could find, pushing Akira’s suit down off his shoulders. The latex bunched up on Akira’s arms. He’d have to take care of the sleeves in a minute, but for now he ran his fingers through Akira’s hair, brushing it out of the way. His lips pressed to the base of Akira’s neck, and he dug his teeth into the pale skin there. The moan that was ripped from his captain’s throat sent a shiver down his spine.

Isamu’s breath was starting to come in ragged, and he was desperate for more friction. Akira seemed to be missing his touch. The Red Lion’s pilot returned a hand to Akira’s cock and went to work continuing to mark up his captain’s shoulders with little crescent-shaped bites. Akira responded immediately, gasping for air in between whines for more, please, _more_.

Well, who was Isamu to deny him that?

He pulled Akira up so he was standing again and shoved the flight suit down to his waist. Isamu’s fingers traced hungrily over Akira’s ribs, thumbs brushing his nipples absently. Akira shuddered at the touch. The captain’s skin was slick with sweat already, Isamu noted with pleasure.

“Hey,” Isamu murmured into Akira’s ear. “Lube?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Akira replied with a breathless chuckle. “I put a bottle in the cabinet below the junk drawer. You should recognize it.”

“Condom?”

Akira hummed affirmatively. “In the same place.”

“Mm, always prepared. Always loved that about you.” Isamu kissed the curve of Akira’s jaw before taking a few steps over to find what he needed.

In the meantime, Akira leaned casually forward again, pulling his suit down further so he could palm at his neglected erection through his underwear. He groaned a little, relieved at the touch, and Isamu stood up fast at the sound.

“Did you find them?” Akira asked nonchalantly, though his eyes were half-lidded and his hair was starting to look like a beautiful mess.

Isamu stared blankly at him for a moment, drinking in the view of Akira’s flushed face and gratified smile. “Y-yeah,” he stammered before rolling his shoulders once and returning to where he’d been. Leaning back over Akira’s body and appreciating his warmth once more, he asked, “So, any reason you stashed lube in the kitchen…?”

Akira laughed. “It was just for today. I try not to make a habit of this.”

“Yeah, speaking of, what if someone comes in?” Isamu said, looking over his shoulder. “We’re not exactly in the most secluded spot in the castle.”

“Taken care of. Did you really think I assigned everyone tasks on the other side of the castle for no reason?”

“God, I love you.”

“Mm. I know.”

With that, Isamu shrugged off his jacket and stripped out of his shirt. He wasted no time pouring lube onto his fingers. Slowly, gently, he slid a finger into Akira, who hissed at the initial contact. The captain relaxed quickly, little noises falling from his mouth as Isamu worked.

“Ready for another?” Isamu asked, and Akira nodded with a groan.

Isamu added a second finger and increased his pace a little, listening intently to every sound Akira made. The captain’s mouth hung open slightly, lips parted in pleasure, and he was breathing carefully to keep himself relaxed.

“That’s it,” Isamu purred, running his free hand over Akira’s latex-clad thigh comfortingly. “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

Akira panted in response.

“I want...” Isamu said, “I wanna fuck you now.”

“Well, I’m not about to stop you,” Akira breathed.

Isamu pulled his fingers out, earning a disappointed noise from Akira. He carefully rolled the condom on, slicking it with extra lube with a few pumps of his hand.

Waiting patiently, Akira adjusted his footing and gasped as Isamu eased the tip of his cock into him. With an almost painstaking slowness, Isame sank into him. Isamu moaned at the familiar feeling – the inviting warmth of Akira’s body drawing him in, closer, closer, until he couldn’t push forward anymore.

Akira huffed when Isamu paused, disguising nerves behind impatience. A few halfhearted movements made the captain whimper and whine before Isamu really started to get going.

Isamu’s thrusts had a way of starting off thorough – slow, sure, but they were purposeful and absolutely divine as he found a rhythm, seeking out Akira’s prostate. He fucked him deeply and carefully, and the sensation of all of it was enough to drive Akira out of his mind.

Isamu refused to speed up too much at once. He built it up slowly, murmuring affirmations along the way: “God, you look so fucking good like this. You’re taking it so well.” Akira bit back a noise and Isamu dug his nails into Akira’s hips. “C’mon, let me hear that pretty voice.”

Well, it was hard not to oblige when he asked so nicely.

Akira gritted his teeth and released the breath he’d been holding onto with a low groan.

“There you go,” Isamu said, rolling his hips steadily. His hands wandered up to grab Akira’s wrists as he leaned down over his captain, sighing at the familiar feeling of skin against skin. Akira’s hair smelled faintly of the flowery shampoo he always used, and it was soft to the touch. Isamu breathed in the scent of him, all essence of flowers and musk and sweat. It overwhelmed his senses until he almost felt dizzy from it all, heat and friction consuming his thoughts.

He drove into Akira harder, letting his mouth fall open in a moan. Akira was panting, hips pushing back desperately to meet Isamu’s movements. Isamu nosed Akira’s hair out of the way to nip at the back of his neck, noting with pleasure the sounds his captain made when he dug his teeth in a little.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mumbled into the skin before running his tongue over the marks he’d left. “I’m getting close already.” Pointedly, he picked up the pace and traced a hand down Akira’s side before grabbing onto his cock lightly, delighted by the shiver that rippled through his captain’s body at the touch.

“Me too,” Akira forced out. “Shit, Moody, I – more, _please_.”

Isamu complied, feeling his heart pound against Akira’s back tellingly, and stroked along the length of his captain’s cock, squeezing the head in his palm and delicately brushing down to the base. Akira’s breath came in gasps, the sensation almost too much to handle.

“Isamu,” the Red Lion’s pilot grunted, jerking his hips sharply.

“Wh – ”

“Don’t be so formal. Call me Isamu.” He nibbled on the shell of Akira’s ear, letting out a tiny groan and knowing exactly how well Akira would be able to hear it.

Akira’s dick twitched in Isamu’s hand, and Isamu smiled knowingly. “Come on, baby, let me hear you. Come for me.”

“I – _Isamu!_ ” Akira cried out, shuddering as Isamu continued to touch and fuck and stroke him through his orgasm, muscles locking up for a few white-hot seconds of agonizing bliss.

His knees buckled almost immediately, and he would have fallen had Isamu not pinned him to the counter under the weight of his own body. With a few final thrusts, Isamu chased his own climax and moaned incoherently, something that was almost Akira’s name, as his muscles trembled with pleasure.

“Fuck,” he remarked eloquently.

“Mmh,” Akira agreed, still hanging limply onto the counter. His legs had regained some of their ability to hold his weight, although he still felt somewhat like he was standing on Jello.

“How’d you know how much seeing you in these flight suits gets me hot?” Isamu asked finally, standing up and stretching a little. His hands gripped Akira’s thighs, still clad in the half-stripped-off latex suit.

“I suppose it was a lucky guess,” Akira said with a smirk, following suit despite his shaking knees. “Although informed by your inability to keep your staring subtle before and after training.”

Isamu pulled Akira in for a kiss. “God, you’re something else.”

Akira grinned in the moment before their lips met. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> haha wow


End file.
